


Never Apart

by WarlockWriter



Series: Knight Moves [4]
Category: Knight Rider (1982), Life (TV)
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockWriter/pseuds/WarlockWriter
Summary: Dean Ellis was driving in the desert when he came across a 1982 Trans Am and an unconscious man. How did KITT and Michael Knight get to 2019? And can they get back again?
Series: Knight Moves [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558063
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jossujb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jossujb/gifts).

> For the record, I have no idea where this story is going. I've rated it Mature to give myself room to work, but it might change as the story progresses. Will there be a ship here? Probably. Will there be sex? I have no clue. I'm just having fun mixing two fandoms with guys who drive classic cars.
> 
> Blame Jossujb and Fal Catrecon for dragging me into this fandom.

Dean Ellis drove in the desert. The flat salt pan was the perfect place to test his new rocket fuel formula. No one and nothing for miles. He tapped the Turbo button on his dash, and the rapid acceleration shoved him back against his seat. This must have been what his dad felt when flying. Just…without being off the ground.

His acceleration finally topped out at 120 mph, and he frowned. This new formula needed some work. He was trying for more than that. As the boost ran out, his car slowed, and he missed the burst of speed. Only when he was driving could he forget the hell and misery that was his current life. He didn’t even have the stupidly named janitorial position at his father’s company since the whole thing had been sold to fund some charity, and no one needed the trash taken out anymore.

Dean had enough money to keep himself clothed and fed for another month or so, and that was it. He’d have to figure something out soon. But until then? He drove.

He started a long slow turn, intending to head back to his cheap rental house. However, before he’d gone more than a few feet, he saw the sun flash off of something in the distance. It was probably nothing, but it might distract him for a few minutes, so he downshifted, spun the wheel and started in the direction of whatever it was.

As he approached, he realized it was another car. An old car. Not as old as his ’71 Buick Riviera but still respectably old. Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. Maybe a ’82? Shiny black with no trim, it crouched in the desert like a panther waiting to pounce.

He got closer and realized there was a man lying on the ground in front of the car. He sped up to get there as fast as possible, skidded to a stop and leaped out of his vehicle.

The man was tall, probably over six feet. He was dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket over a red…turtleneck? In this heat? His hair was curly and big…like the 80s were calling and wanted their hair style back. He started forward to examine the man, but an odd hum from the car stopped him. Dean noticed a red light flashing over the front bumper. It was oddly reminiscent of Cylon “eyes” from that Battlestar Galactica show. Suddenly, the car looked less like a car and more like a guard animal, protecting his charge.

Seriously? WTF?

“Hey. I…just want to check him out. He looks hurt.” Was he really talking to a car? Apparently so.

The motion of the light slowed fractionally. Was that in response to his words? “I don’t mean any harm to either of you. But I think he needs help.”

The back and forth motion eased back to half the speed it had been moving before. Dean took that as permission to approach. He knelt by the man and touched his shoulder, careful not to move him. The man didn’t move. He was sprawled on his side, facing away from Dean. He hesitated, knowing it was probably a bad idea to move him but not sure what else to do.

Gently, he rolled the man onto his back. Now that Dean could see his face, he estimated the stranger to be about thirty, give or take a few years. There was no visible injury, but his body was limp and unconscious.

Dean settled back on his heels, not sure what to do next. Get the man into his car? Drive him to the hospital? But what about the Trans Am? He didn’t want to leave a classic car out here in the desert.

“Kinda at a loss here, car,” he found himself saying. He reached in the man’s back pocket. The car’s light sped up again. “I’m not robbing him, car. I’m trying to find out who he is and who I should call.” It was becoming too comfortable to talk to the vehicle.

The light slowed again. Dean took out and opened the man’s wallet. He pulled out a driver’s license. Issued in California. “Michael Knight.” His eyes scanned down the card, and his eyes stuttered to a halt at the dates. “Born in 1952.” He looked again at the man. “Nope. You’re definitely not in your 60s.” He looked at the expiration date. “1987? Wait. What is going on here?”

He sat back on his heels to regroup and assess what he was seeing. Classic car. Man who looked like he was from the 80s. License seems to support that. Was he really looking at some sort of time travel thing? Or was this just an elaborate put up? But who would try to mess with him?

He shook his head, really not sure what to think. On the other hand, the man was unconscious and probably should go to the hospital. He stood up and looked in the window, wanting to try to learn more about him. He took a step back as soon as he saw the electronics in the cabin. A fighter-jet style dashboard? He was pretty sure that hadn’t been even an option for the Trans Am. This whole thing was getting more confusing by the minute.

Finally, he decided the only thing to do was to take the man to the hospital and come back for the car. It didn’t seem right, but he wasn’t sure he really had other options. Moving back to the man, he started to lift him.

“No. Don’t take him away.”

Dean almost dropped Michael in his surprise, but he managed to let him down gently. Then he whirled, looking for the source of the voice. There was no one else visible. “Who was that? Where are you?”

“I’m the ‘car’ as you’ve been referring to me.” Now that Dean was paying attention, he did notice the voice sounded as if it were coming from the Trans Am. And that it sounded…irritated? Could a car be irritated?

“I’m the Knight Industries Two Thousand. But you can call me KITT.”

Dean shook his head. This was all starting to be a bit much. Maybe time travel and now a talking car? However, he could be polite. “I’m glad to meet you KITT. I’m Dean Ellis.” He glanced over at his car. “She’s not got a name nor can she talk, but if she could, I’m sure she’d be pleased to meet you as well.”

The humming changed frequency slightly, and Dean thought it was in amusement. “Few cars can.” A pause. “I have a question. When you saw Michael’s date of birth you said he didn’t look as if he were in his 60s. Are you indicating we aren’t in 1983 anymore?”

Dean found himself nodding, supposing the car could see it. “It’s 2019, so you’re a long way out of your time.”

The light stuttered. “2019? How is that possible?”

Dean shrugged. “Got me. I was hoping you could answer that.” He looked back at Michael. “We still need to get him to a hospital. If you can talk, can you also drive yourself?”

“I can, but no hospital. Not until I know more about what has happened.”

Dean motioned to the unconscious man. “He’s obviously injured and needs medical care.”

“I have scanned him. He has no broken bones or serious injuries. He does have a head injury, which is probably why he’s unconscious, but it’s not enough to need medical care.”

Dean shook his head. KITT could talk, drive himself and scan for injuries. Of course he could. Was there anything he couldn’t do? Cook perhaps? “I still think a hospital would be prudent.”

The light sped up. “Not until I know why we’re here.”

KITT sounded determined, and Dean raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, then. But we still need to get him out of this heat.” He considered. “I guess we could take him to my house.”

“If you would.”

“If you’re not going to let me take him to a hospital, I don’t see many other options.” He reached down and started to pick up Michael. “I’ll take him and you can follow us?”

“I’d prefer to drive him myself.”

Dean was willing. Michael was both large and heavy, and KITT was closer. The door opened, and Dean managed to get him into the driver’s seat. He arranged his limbs as comfortably as he could and closed the door. “All right. It’s about a twenty minute drive to my house.”

“I will follow you.” A pause. “I do not seem to have accurate maps for this year.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, it has changed a bit since the 80s.” He climbed into his own car and started back across the desert. KITT followed him at a perfect following distance.

As they approached his house, Dean used his remote to open the garage door and parked on the street. KITT parked in the driveway, and Dean thought his motion seemed uncertain. He climbed out and jogged over to KITT. “Go ahead and park in the garage.”

“But it’s your garage.”

“I know,” Dean said with a pat on KITT’s roof. “But I thought you’d like to stay as close to Michael as possible.”

“Yes?”

“Go on then. I’ll follow and close the door behind you.”

KITT pulled carefully into the garage, and Dean closed the door behind him. He leaned over the driver’s side and noticed that Michael was still unconscious. “How is he?”

“Vitals are good. I’m not sure why he’s not waking up.”

Dean marveled at how much emotion the car managed to convey. There was no question he was concerned. “How long have you known him?” Leaning over like this was uncomfortable, but there was so much he wanted to know.

The passenger door opened. “Get in. You’ll be more comfortable.”

“Thanks.” Dean did so. The leather seat was very nice.

“I have known Michael for one year, six months and eighteen days.”

Dean refrained from asking about the hours and seconds because he suspected KITT knew those as well.

KITT quickly gave Dean an overview, and he found himself shaking his head. A new face for Michael. A powerful organization like the Foundation. He wondered if he’d like this Devon Miles. Not that he’d have a chance to meet him.

“All right. That’s all helpful, but I’m still not sure how you got here? Were you on some sort of mission involving time travel?”

KITT’s interior lights sped up. “That’s what’s so odd. I don’t know how we got here. As far as I can remember, we were on a perfectly ordinary mission, tracking down a terrorist cell. Nothing that should have led to us being transported to 2019.”

Dean frowned. “Huh. That makes it difficult to figure out how to get you back.”

“Perhaps Michael will be able to tell us something when he awakens.”

The tall man moved just then, groaning faintly.

“Michael!” KITT’s voice was filled with unmistakable excitement.

Dean sat back, giving the man some room, assuming he’d want to check in with his car first.

Michael opened his eyes, which looked glazed. He shook his head and groaned again.

“Michael? How are you feeling?”

“Uh. Groggy.” His expression sharpened. “Wait. Where am I? And who are you?”

“Michael. I’m KITT, of course.”

“KITT who.” He glanced over at Dean. “And who are you?”

Dean’s heart sank. It seemed as if Michael wasn’t going to be able to shed any light on the situation.

Chapter 2


	2. Chapter 2

Explanations didn’t go well. Michael refused to believe that a car could talk, even though KITT was clearly talking to him. He insisted that he was Michael Long, not Knight, and even showing him the license didn’t change that. If anything, it made things worse. Apparently, the plastic surgery on Michael’s face had been extensive, and when Michael looked in KITT’s rear view mirror, he jerked back with a yell.

“That’s not me!”

KITT’s patience with Michael seemed endless. “As I said, Michael, you had surgery. Michael Long is officially dead. You’re Michael Knight now.”

Finally, he stopped fighting that. However, when Dean explained that it was now 2019, Michael almost stormed out of the car. Only KITT’s refusal to unlock the door kept him inside.

“This is too much. First you tell me that I have a new face and a talking car. Then you try to tell me that I’m in 2019?” He glared at the garage. “This doesn’t look that different from 1981. Looks like a normal garage. Weren’t you supposed to have flying cars by now?”

Dean restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He should have guessed that would be the reaction from someone from the 80s. “Not flying, no. We’re getting close to self-driving but nothing like KITT here.”

Some time later, Michael reluctantly allowed as how perhaps, just perhaps he might be starting to believe that he was in the future. (Seeing an iPhone in action might have helped with that.)

However, once he stopped fighting them, he said, “Let me out of the car. I need a break from this.”

KITT unlocked and opened the driver’s side door. Michael stalked out of Dean's garage and walked with quick, angry steps, down the sidewalk and out of sight. KITT's engine started, and Dean put a hand on his hood. "Let him go."

"But Michael..."

"Has been hit with a lot right now. He needs time to process. Nothing in my neighborhood will hurt him. He'll be back when he's ready."

KITT's steady hum skipped a couple of beats, and Dean put a few things together. "You love him, don't you?"

"Dean, I am a car. I am incapable of love."

Dean snorted and stroked KITT's driver's side window. "You're an intelligent car. You may not have been programmed for love, but hanging out with Michael Knight has clearly changed that."

"I am programmed to protect him."

Dean smiled. "I'm sure you have. But I'm sensing there's more to it than that."

There was a long pause before KITT asked, "How does one define 'love,' Dean?"

The man sighed. This might take a while. “That’s a hard one to answer, KITT, considering that I’ve never properly _been_ in love. But if I had to guess, I’d say it involves wanting to be with someone a lot of the time. Missing them like crazy when they’re away and thinking their happiness is at least as important as your own.”

There was a long pause. “I think that accurately sums up what I feel about Michael.”

Dean patted his dash. “Congratulations. Not sure your programmer intended that, so I’m going to say you exceeded your programming there.”

“I’m not sure you should sound so happy about that. I don’t like feeling this way. Well, I do, and I don’t, if that makes sense.”

“I think pretty much everyone who’s ever been in love has said something like that, KITT.” He stretched in the seat. “No offense, but I think I need to get out of you.” He thought for a moment. “Huh. Can you sense frequencies to transmit over?”

“Of course.”

Dean grinned. “Then I think I have an idea.”

He walked into the house and brought back a small cylinder. He plugged it into an outlet in the garage and waited for it to boot up.

“What is that?”

“An Amazon Echo.”

“That doesn’t tell me much.”

“It’s a smart speaker. I’m guessing if you search for frequencies, you’ll find the one this broadcasts over.”

There was a low hum before KITT said, “All right. I’ve found it.”

“Can you talk over it?”

“I think so.”

Dean’s grin broadened. “Excellent.”

“What is the point of this?”

“You want to be a part of the conversation even if Michael and I are in the house, right?”

“Oh. I understand. You can take that inside, and I can still hear and talk to you.”

“Exactly. I’ve got three of them in the house. One in the kitchen. One in the living room and one in my bedroom.” Heat rose in his face. “I’m thinking you might not need to use that one much. I can move the one from the kitchen into the guest room at night if you want to stay in contact with Michael.”

“I would appreciate that.” His tone turned wistful. “But I’m not sure Michael will wish to continue speaking to me.”

Dean patted his roof. “I think he will. The number of people he knows is very small.”

“I’m not sure that technically he knows me.”

“Yeah. Good point. But I’m still pretty sure he’ll talk to you. You’re his only link to where he came from. Hang on. Let me switch the Echo to inside.”

He unplugged the device, took it into the house and plugged it back into its outlet in the kitchen. “Do I still have you?”

“Yes.” KITT’s voice wasn’t quite as full coming through the speaker, but Dean still liked it. He had a soothing and pleasant voice. Which made him stop and ask, “KITT, I think of you as a ‘he’ because of your voice. But is that your preferred gender pronoun?”

“What else would you use?”

Dean shrugged. “Lots of people use ‘they’ these days. Some people don’t feel like identifying with just one gender or even either gender.”

“I’m fine with ‘he.’ It’s what Michael has always used. But thank you for asking. No one has ever asked me before.”

“It’s considered good manners now. Which means, of course, that a lot of people get pissy about it, but I’m not one of them. Now, back to the matter at hand. I was hoping Michael would have some clue as to why we are here instead of in 1983. But so far it doesn’t look like it. At least not for a little while.”

“Same here. I’m hoping his memory will come back. And soon. I feel…unsettled with Michael not knowing who I am.”

“I can imagine.” Dean wondered if it was anything like his misery at being rejected by his father. It seemed as if Michael were pretty much KITT’s entire family. He could relate to that. So, he said, “Until then, you’re welcome to stay here. Well, until I get evicted at least.”

“Evicted? Why?”

“I’m about a month from running out of money. Long story but my dad died, basically disinherited me and I haven’t exactly figured out what I’m going to do with my life now.”

“Is there any way we can help?” KITT sounded determined.

“Not sure.” Dean opened the fridge and took out a beer. “Not unless you’ve got some get rich quick schemes in mind. I don’t have a lot of useful skills. Basically, I can…well…take out trash and formulate rocket fuel to run in car engines.”

“That second one sounds like a good skill to have.”

“Yeah, but I’m running out of fuel, and I don’t have enough money to buy any more.”

“That could be a problem. Michael and I have not really had to worry about money. The Foundation has covered all of our expenses.” There was a long pause, followed by, “How much does gasoline cost now?”

Dean was glad he was in the kitchen and KITT couldn’t see his grin. “It’s a lot more than you’re probably used to. Last I checked, it was around $2.50 a gallon. We’ve been as high as four dollars, but it’s down quite a bit right now.”

“That’s _twice_ what it cost in 1983!” KITT sounded affronted.

“It was around four dollars about a decade ago.” Dean couldn’t help the smile that crept into his voice.

“That’s highway robbery.”

“Nope. It’s inflation.” He popped the top on his can and sat at the table, wondering when Michael would come back. He hoped he had been right when he told KITT that his human would return.

“Michael is nearby,” KITT said. “I think he’s coming back now.”

“Good. Tell him I’m in the kitchen and he can come right in.”

“I will. And then we can discuss how to make certain you aren’t evicted. It’s the least we can do for all of your assistance.”

Dean waved a hand, even knowing that KITT wouldn’t be able to see it. “It’s fine. It’s my problem to figure out. I’ll come up with something.”

Michael walked into the kitchen just then. “Figure what out?”

Dean motioned him to the other seat at the small kitchen table and got up to get a beer for him. Michael took it with a nod of thanks. “Nothing important,” Dean said. He really wished he hadn’t said anything about it to KITT. “Did the walk help?”

Michael shrugged. “Not really. I still don’t remember anything. But I do believe that I’m not in the 80s anymore.” He shook his head. “So many things look similar. I’d expected everything to look more…I don’t know, futuristic, but they don’t. Cars look different, but building styles look similar.”

“What convinced you then?”

Michael’s expression grew disgusted. “Everyone walking around with their noses glued to those phone things like the one you showed me. How do they not all end up dead?”

Dean couldn’t help laughing. “Even people today wonder that. It is hard to understand.”

Michael returned his laugh with a small smile. “So what were you figuring out? Since my memory isn’t coming back, I might as well focus on something else.”

“Dean is going to be evicted if he doesn’t get money soon,” came KITT’s voice from the Echo. Michael startled, pushing his chair back and standing up.

“Easy, Michael,” Dean said. “KITT is just transmitting to this.” He pointed to the Echo.

“What is that?” His tone was suspicious, but he did sit back down.

Dean quickly explained smart devices. KITT commented that they weren’t really _that_ smart, and both men had a laugh at his indignation.

Finally, though, Michael said, “What’s this about being evicted?”

With a sigh, Dean explained the situation to him. Obviously, they weren’t going to let it alone.

Michael sat back in his chair. “Well, that’s easy.”

“It is?” Dean was mildly appalled that Michael apparently had figured it out that quickly.

Michael gave him a grin filled with such assurance that Dean’s heart skipped a beat. “Sure. I’ve got this self-driving car which I’m guessing can go really fast. Turbo boost must mean something, right?”

“Of course, Michael. Speed is one of my specialties.”

The grin widened. “And are there amateur car races in this area?”

Dean nodded and started to smile. He was seeing where this might be going.

“Then let’s enter KITT. He’ll win and money won’t be a problem.”

Dean shook his head. Could it really be that easy?

“That should be simple, Michael.” KITT’s tone sounded smug.

Apparently, it could be.


End file.
